


The Three Treasures of the Isle

by Arthurianlover



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arthurianlover/pseuds/Arthurianlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mortal detective, Merlin, has been born and born again. With no Arthur to be heard of Merlin gives up all hope. When a paper appears claiming THE return with Three Scared objects Merlin begins a race around the world with an "Arthur", the only one who can activate the objects, in toe. But an evil cult is in the race to get them first. Can Merlin dear to hope it's the real Arthur?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Three Treasures of the Isle

The man was dressed in a button up shirt and slacks with brown leather shoes. Beside him, on the cracked and desolated bench on the main drag of road running through London, was a black brief case. The well-to-do man had perfect posture. His hands were folded neatly into his lap, his legs were crossed smartly at the ankles, and his hair was slicked back just right with some commercial cream or another.

The man had been dead no less than forty eight hours.

Private Emrys, or Merlin to his friends and family- though they were few and far between, ran a hand through his hair and stowed away his notebook in his coat pocket. There was nothing new to this murder besides the person and the place.  Murder was blurring all together in London, England these days. It all had the same equation and solution, just different factors. He was starting to feel somewhat fidgety and indifferent. As if each and every new crime had been a bright and wild color on a white canvas but was now dimming as each new stroke came out the same grey wash.  

“All right, tell the beggar boys to bag up the body,” this was said to the man standing a foot away and waiting on orders. Leon did as he was instructed and singled the men who were in old scrubs that looked no better than rags, hence the name beggar boys, with a finger in the air twirl. The big red hair man stepped over the police tape and came to stand by Merlin who watched the dead man in the fancy suit be zip up and carried away. The officer looked down at detective as he had an advantage of being three feet taller than most of the men in the crime unit and constabularies. Leon, like the rest of his fellow police officers, had known Merlin for about four years, but, that being said, they, or no one else for that matter, really knew him. He had come to a crime scene one day out of the blue. Merlin had just shown up with no official papers or hanging badge, crossed the tape, strolled right up to the body of a woman, and just like that, without even a hello, said it was a mistake suicide and that there was no suspect but the dead women. Merlin had been right. Without even looking at the notes or looking at the evidence, Merlin was to, just like that, able to tell what happen and who did it. Most of the time, sometimes it took a little more than just looking at the bodies or the place of the crime for Merlin to tell all. Ever since that day Merlin had been hands down the best of the best and soon everyone in the law force of London, England wanted Merlin to lead their cases. Crime had gone down hugely since Merlin joined the force. He had been promoted, given awards, parties, solved huge cases, solved little cases, and solved cold cases, yet no one knew much about the brown haired young man. Not even his age!

“What do you suppose happened here?” Leon asked nodding to the now empty bench.

“An over dose,” Merlin answered. Merlin then walked towards the bench leaving Leon behind. The red haired man knew he didn’t have to ask how Merlin knew for Merlin would explain in 3…2…1…

“You can see the drift powder from the drugs here,” Merlin pointed to a wispy pile of white substance being now blown away by the London wind. “There was also white powder in the man’s nose,” Merlin explained farther at Leon’s skeptical look.  “It’s just like every other case in the past few months nothing new.”

With that said Merlin then nodded to Leon and ducked under the tape leaving the police captain to his men. Merlin’s work shoes scoffed the pavement as he walked the next block over to his car his mind on the case. He shook his head, if only the real world knew of the hidden. It wasn’t drugs that killed that man, just like last week it wasn’t a regular man killing with a silver knife and the man dead at his feet wasn’t just a regular man either. No, it was all an illusion to hide the real killer: Magic. Merlin Emrys was not any regular man he was _the_ Merlin the one from the Arthurian legend and who bought about the sword in the stone and the once and future king.  The man scoffed at that. He had been born again and again for the past thousand centuries and no Arthur had appeared. The others of course from his life had been born and died then born again just like him. Leon was a perfect example of just that. Oh of course, there were others besides Leon and sometimes he did not meet everyone he once knew in life. It was not common for him to go a life without meeting Gwen or even Mordred. They never did look the same from one life to the next and rarely did they ever look like they did a thousand years ago…well, besides this time that is to say. They all looked the same as they did in Camelot, right down to the very last curl on Gwen’s head. And unlike all the other times, he had met every single soul he had called friend and enemy back then. Besides Arthur, there was never any Arthur to be seen or heard of. Oh, there had been “Arthurs” but they had never really been Arthur, sadly. Merlin was starting to doubt Arthur would ever be reborn…he gave up hope eons ago and now just lived and died with the curse of having to be reborn again only to die again and the curse of all the familiar faces remembering nothing and him remembering all.

Merlin was just about to open the door to his ’97 Honda prelude when something flashed in his side vision. He blew out a breath and turned around in time to see a slim Escalade sneak around and into the opening of the alleyway catty corner from the crime scene.  “And there goes the killer...they always run the fools.” Merlin whispered. He looked at the scene and saw the people were preoccupied with their doings. Merlin turned the ignition and with a quick thrust dropping into first gear, he shot towards the opening of the alleyway.

The passage was like an enclosed tube between a long stretches of commercial buildings as the roofs reached up towards the sky and overlapped blocking out any and all light. Merlin flipped on the headlights to high just in time to see the red Escalade drift around a tight left corner.  Merlin cursed as he realizes he was going too fast for the turn! With practiced motion Merlin reached for the emergency brake and pulled-

-he turned the wheel hard to the left and with his tires squawking, drifted around the tight corner in hot pursuit. He bumped up against the door as he went into the turn and cursed and he yanked the wheel straight again and applied more gas. He could see the car he was chasing a little ways ahead of him. Merlin pushed his foot on the clutch as went into second gear. Merlin knew this little alleyway more than anyone should have and knew that it was about to come to an end and open up into the central park on the west side of the city. He prayed the assaulting driver did to or there would be issues. Merlin sped up fast this time and came closer. He was so close he could see the chip paint coming off of the exterior of the car. The driver looked towards Merlin through their rearview mirror and smiled. Shit...they knew what lay at the end of the alley. Merlin slammed his foot on the clutch and gas and made his car lurch forward knocking to the one in front of him. The Escalade jerked the side and fishtailed into one of the buildings only to right it out again. Merlin repeated the process again and once more hit the car again, this time sending it almost sideways and up against the wall. Merlin was trying to hit the car with enough force it would spin around sideways and be stuck sideways between the two walls. It was a long shot though, but his only once as the exit was nearing closer and the sounds of people becoming unmistakable clear.  

“Emrys!” the driver hissed loudly. Merlin was in a moment state of cold fear and shock when he realized the voice was not coming from any mouth but echoing in his head. The last time he had heard any telepathic communication in his head had been when he was still Emrys of Camelot…when Arthur had been alive. Being distracted he was nearly beheaded by a red light that came rocketing towards him. Merlin yelped and ducked low in his seat while still keeping his foot on the gas. He heard his engine kick up as he exceeded his limit and began to reach blindly for the clutch.

The world exploded in glass and red. The light, a spell, had missed Merlin’s head but still had exploded the windshield into shatters and out through the rear window. The reinforced glass turned to sharp dust and dusted Merlin. He moved most the bigger pieces out of the way with a growl and tapped the shifter knob once more and brought himself into a siting position.

“Oh craaaa-“Merlin began to shout as he came to find himself shooting out of the alley way. The red Escalade he had been chasing after had, unfortunately, used the advantage given to slow down enough to make a stop at the corner of the alley way leading out to the side street.

Merlin zips past them and unable to slow down launches down the strip, through the gates of the park, and launches himself off the steps of a stair well. _Fuga et pulvinus_ Merlin chants and his whole body goes warm and he feels a little of his soul slide out of place and his body suddenly feels drained. He had just enough time to see the spell done and to take in his car flying through the air, almost as if reaching the clouds, and the car’s loud and deep vibrating as it leaves its traction.

Up and up and up Merlin and the Honda went. Merlin had the urge to laugh at the thought of this was the most creative way he had ever died. He hoped he would stay dead this time for what was the point in living again another life in which Arthur did not return?

Down…down…down the car went. It hit the pavement on the first two wheels and looked as though it was make a good clean land. Then, the weight of the body was too much and the Prelude flipped over itself and finally came to a stop upside down.

Then…there was nothing but the sound silence.

 

 


End file.
